


A Place To Rest, Full Of Light

by TLynn



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLynn/pseuds/TLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet holiday moment between our favorite duo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place To Rest, Full Of Light

He stepped out of the cold and into the house, closing the door quickly behind him. He couldn’t see her, but he could   
easily hear her.

“Dammit!”

“Scully?” he called out. “You okay?”

“No!” she called back, her tone dripping with irritation rather than urgency. “And where did you go?”

He grabbed her parka from the coat rack and headed toward the sound of her voice. He found her in the kitchen at   
the light switch, her back to him and her head tilted up towards the ceiling. She was madly flipping the switch on and   
off, but the overhead light was not responding. A small stepladder sat in the middle of the room with a box of light   
bulbs resting atop it.

“I told you we needed to have the wiring checked out before we moved in here, Mulder,” she snapped, turning around   
to him. “It’s Christmas Eve. We’re not going to be able to get anyone out here to fix it until Monday.”

“We can cook by candlelight for a few days,” he offered with a grin. “It’ll be romantic or something.”

“It’s not just the kitchen light,” she said with exasperation. “It’s this whole half of the house. The outlets don’t work,   
either. We’ve been here for all of two days and -- why are you holding my coat?”

“I’ll get online tomorrow and figure out how to fix the wiring problem, okay?”

“What do you mean you’ll get online and figure out how to fix it?”

“I’ll Google it.”

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

“Relax, it’s not like I’ll be looking up instructions on how to perform brain surgery,” he said, opening her coat for her.   
“Now, c’mon.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, eyebrows pinched together in irritation. “It’s almost midnight and it’s   
freezing outside.”

He stepped over to her with a smile.

“Just trust me,” he said.

She snorted. “I’ve had far too long a day to trust that look you have in your eye right now. If memory serves, that’s   
the same look that used to get both of us into a lot of trouble. Just because we have a place to settle now doesn’t   
mean--“

“Scully!” he shouted. When she stopped talking and gave him a startled look, he continued with calm. “Put your   
coat on and come outside with me. I have something to show you. Please?”

She let out a heavy sigh, but said nothing and did as he asked. He smiled inwardly, taking note of how she even   
refrained from asking him what was in the backpack he was wearing as they walked out the front door and she   
pulled on a pair of boots before following him down the porch steps.

The night was still and cold, but bright with moonlight, making it easy to follow the path of footprints left behind   
from earlier that evening. He glanced back to see her still trudging along behind him, face partially obscured by   
the thick vapors of her warm breath in the frigid night air.

“You’re gonna love this,” he assured her.

“Uh huh,” she responded, clearly not yet convinced.

He led her through the thick growth of trees that bordered along the small backyard and into a small clearing a   
few hundred feet in. Saplings of various species littered the open space, but near the center grew a single Douglas   
fir that stood about five feet tall. Even more remarkable than its singularity was the fact that nearly every inch was   
of it was covered in twinkling white lights and clear crystal orbs of assorted sizes. It was breathtaking.

“Mulder,” she breathed. “How...?”

“I told you you were gonna love it,” he said, beaming.

She walked closer to the tree to examine it, one slender finger reaching out to trace along the convex surface of   
one particularly large ornament that reflected nearly every light on the tree. She looked up to see a single silver   
star, shining in the light of the moon overhead. She turned to him again, her question still plain on her face.

“Battery operated lights,” he explained. “With things as busy as they’ve been these last few days, what with moving   
in and setting up and you interviewing for jobs, I knew we wouldn’t have time to get a tree set up in the house. And   
I know how much you love Christmas trees, so I thought I’d give you the next best thing.”

“When did you do all this?” she asked, her gaze once again pulled back to the tree. Its light illuminated everything   
surrounding it, including Scully herself.

“While you were in town today.”

“That explains why there are still so many boxes up in the attic. And here I thought you were just being lazy and   
spent all that time surfing the Internet. I was so mad at you.”

“I know. Am I forgiven?”

“Absolutely.”

“Would you like a drink?” he asked then.

“What?”

He shrugged the backpack off and set it on the ground, unzipped it, and pulled out a large thermos and two coffee   
cups. She walked over and took one cup from him, holding it still as he poured. The rich smell of chocolate filled her   
nostrils, as did the fresh scent of mint, and she smiled.

“Peppermint hot chocolate?” she asked, taking a long drink.

“Hot chocolate and Rumple Minze,” he corrected.

She coughed as rich liqueur burned down her throat then hummed as it mixed with the cocoa and warmed her belly.   
He chuckled as he poured his own and she feigned indignation as she moved to stand next to him. They stared at the   
tree for several long, quiet minutes, their only movement that of their arms as they lifted their drinks to their lips.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, breaking the silence. “To have a place to stop and rest for a while. A furnished   
place, no less, with an attic of boxes full of anything else we might need.”

“It’s almost too good to be true,” she answered.

“But it is,” he said. “True, I mean.”

“I know,” she sighed.

“That’s a good thing, you realize.”

“It’s just that we’ve been living as ghosts for the last two and a half years, Mulder, and it’s going to take some time for   
me to realize I don’t have to look over my shoulder at every turn, that I can start to form relationships with people again,   
that I can use my real name. I guess there’s part of me that can’t quite believe we won’t have to up and move to another   
city at a moment’s notice anymore.”

“Skinner never would have sent us the signal we could stop running if it weren’t safe to do so.”

“I know,” she said. “But we still need to be careful. I’m afraid of getting too comfortable and not seeing any dangers for   
what they are. _You’re_ still in hiding, Mulder. We still need to have eyes in the backs of our heads.”

“Spoken like a true paranoid,” he said. “Scully, I’ve taught you well.”

She laughed and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against his arm and they once again fell   
into a shared silence, their eyes still glued to the tree.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”

“We’ll be okay here, Scully,” he said. “I can feel it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’m tired, Mulder.”

“I can’t feel my feet.”

“Can we come back out here tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

He drained his mug and handed it to her before stepping away and around to the back of the tree where she couldn’t see   
him. Suddenly the lights went out and the night was pitch black until her eyes adjusted to the dark. The ground looked   
silver under the moonlight and she could hear Mulder’s footsteps in the snow as he made his way back over to her. He   
picked up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder and held out his hand. She took it and squeezed.

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

***  
end

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to ColebaltBlue for looking this over for me.
> 
> Written for gladiole and originally posted at xf_santa on LiveJournal.


End file.
